Meetings Don't Have to be Boring
by lemonbark
Summary: Italy is tired of the boring routine G8 meetings, so he decides to do something that will make it more interesting for both him and Germany.


Germany stifled a yawn as he leaned forward in his chair. He sat at the head of a long, wooden table that the G8 nations were gathered around. The table was draped with a long, white tablecloth that hung in his lap and an arrangement of flowers sat in the center. The room was for the most part blank, save for a mediocre painting of a nondescript landscape that hung behind where Japan sat. The countries' government officials and representatives, the ones that would have actual political discourse, were in an adjacent room, soundproof door tightly sealed shut.

Germany longingly looked at the door and then back to the room he was stuck in. America was loudly insisting on some nonsensical solution to the pollution problem that they had been tasked with 'resolving', and the rest of the nations were bickering between themselves. The German did not think it was fair that a reasonable man such as himself, one capable of making the difficult decisions that were being deliberated in the room next door, should instead be placed in the company of those unable to have any type of intelligent conversation. They were not really solving any global issues, it was just a stage to keep them entertained while the bosses did the real work. It was like a daycare.

The blonde sighed. The meeting would not have seemed as bad if Italy would have been there. Of course, the Italian would not necessarily be able to take part in the complex political conversations that the German wanted to have, but he would be sympathetic to Germany's frustration. The night before, Italy had actually been complaining about how extremely boring the meetings always were, and the two of them had actually had a small argument over it, so he hoped that the Italian was not upset with him. Germany had been hoping to apologize after the meeting for raising his voice, but Italy had called him that morning to inform him that he was not feeling well and that he would not be in attendance, so the German man was alone.

A yelp from France as England yanked on a piece of his hair jolted Germany from his thoughts.

"Enough with the squabbling!" he barked. The other nations fell silent after a few murmurs. "We will share our ideas one at a time, going clockwise around the table!"

Germany actually had not been able to think of a reasonable solution having to do with the disposal of trash and landfills, so he quickly decided he would go last.

"Russia," he said, looking to the tall, warmly dressed man to his left. "You will go first."

"Da," the man smiled. "So, I think we should have fewer things so we throw away fewer things. Not every person needs a..."

Germany drowned out Russia's words as he sunk into his own thoughts, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, possibly even an idea he could present to the bosses next door. As he pondered, the German was suddenly pulled from his ideas as he thought he felt something brush against his leg.

Confused, the blonde man looked at Russia to see if he was trying to get his attention, but the man was just finishing up presenting his idea. He looked to his right at America, but the usually boisterous man was just blowing a bubble of gum and was staring at Russia with a blank expression. A little unnerved, Germany went to cross his legs, but a firm hand was placed on his knee under the table. The man jolted a bit in surprise, but not wanting to alarm the other nations, kept quiet.

Russia finished his turn, and to his left Canada began to speak in a quiet voice. The German vaguely heard something about recycling but was too preoccupied with what he had just felt to pay the shy man any mind. Unable to see anything under the table due to the long tablecloth, he shuffled his leg again. Nothing.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, he began to relax. Suddenly, he felt the feeling of someone's all-too-familiar fingers sliding along the underside of his belt. Germany gulped. There was definitely another person in the room, and the only way to get in was by fingerprint identification- meaning it had to be another nation in the G8- and there was only one missing. _Italy.  
_  
"I think everyone would be happier if we recycled more," Canada droned on in a meager voice. "The animals, the trees..."

Germany struggled to stay calm as he felt the Italian's slender fingers undo his belt. He tried to fathom why Italy would attend a meeting under a table only to start undressing him, especially when he was sick. Suddenly, it hit him.

 _He wasn't sick,_ Germany thought in a mix of terror and understanding. _He had planned this.  
_  
Germany put on a serious face and did his best to look like he was listening intently to Canada, trying to fight the anxiety of the situation under the table. As much as the German was mortified by what was happening, as Italy removed his belt, he felt his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

As Canada continued with his environmentally friendly ideas, the action under the table suddenly stopped. Germany waited with a knot in his stomach for something, anything, to happen. As his anticipation was drawn out he felt himself getting painfully hard, and as furious with himself about it as he was, his mind became filled with all the perverted things Italy could do to him in his current vulnerable state.

Germany let out a small gasp as Itay began to palm him through his slacks. Japan looked over, but Germany quickly sniffed to disguise the sound he had let escape. He fought the growing sense of panic as he looked around the table. Canada was finishing his speech and soon it would be France's turn.

He felt like everyone's eyes were on him as his face heated up, Italy continuing to rub at the now aching bulge in Germany's pants. The blonde's heart sped up as he realized he would soon start leaking and he clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the meeting.

 _What had prompted this from Italy?_ he wondered as France began to speak. _He had never done anything like this outside their houses before. Maybe he wanted to try something new?  
_  
The German's conjecture was cut short as he felt himself begin to leak. His face turned a deeper shade of red as he imagined having to stand up once the meeting was adjourned; someone would be bound to notice his leaking cock still trapped inside his slacks. Suddenly, a shiver went through Germany's body Italy slowly pulled down the zipper on his pants. He balled his fists and tried his absolute best to focus on what France was saying, but he simply couldn't.

 _Hold it together_ , Germany told himself. He was well known for his serious composure, so any break in it would surely give him away. As stressful and horrifying as the situation was, the blonde also found himself even more aroused by the danger of it. His cock throbbed in his underwear and he shifted his hips a bit, wanting Italy to stop and to touch him all at the same time.

Germany twitched as Italy pulled down his slacks and underwear just far enough, his cock springing out of the tight confines of his pants. The cool air of the meeting room felt strange; it felt wrong- he knew he should not have been enjoying it, but the wrongness of it all made his cock throb.

Italy placed his hands on the man's inner thighs, and it was all he could do not to quiver in anticipation. As composed as Germany usually was, he was not one to be silent when he was being touched, whether it by Italy or his own hand. Realizing he had been staring intently at the table, the blonde looked up to meet France's eyes.

His stomach twisted. France had a knowing look on his face- Germany wasn't sure how the other nation knew, but France looked too smug for someone who was talking about pollution. He was watching Germany squirm in his seat, eyeing every move, ready to call him out when he did something too obvious.

 _No_ , Germany told himself as he felt Italy shifting between his legs. _You're just paranoid. Nobody has noticed._

However, Germany's attempts to convince himself that all was normal were quickly squashed. A strangled moan escaped his lips as the Italian under the table wrapped his lips around the German's throbbing cock. France paused his sentence and the rest of the G8 turned their heads to the blonde man.

Germany's heart was pounding in his chest and he struggled to find words as Italy began to swirl his tongue around. He clenched his jaw and managed to meet the other nations' eyes.

"J-Just clearing my throat," he stammered, hoping his lie was not completely transparent. "I have a small cold. Please continue."

France's knowing eyes remained intently focused on Germany, but he continued his speech. The German man wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he instead tightly pursed his lips to avoid accidentally making any more lewd sounds- but the challenge was more difficult than he had planned on.

As France finished and England began to speak, Germany felt his breathing becoming heavier as Italy continued to tease him under the table. He fought the urge to pant as Italy dragged his tongue up the underside of his cock before taking it fully into his mouth, the soft wetness sending shivers up his spine. Germany wished that the table was not there, so he could look down at the Italian, soft brown eyes glistening and lips reddened, saliva and precum running down his chin as he bobbed his head.

As it began to feel more and more pleasurable, Germany had to use all his self-control not to buck his hips to slam his cock into the other man's throat. He reveled in the feeling of Italy's hands running up inner thighs and suddenly lurched as his tongue flicked up his slit.

England paused. "Germany? You do not seem like yourself."

"I am fine, keep talking," Germany said, breath labored. The pleasure grew as he tried to focus, but he could feel himself becoming more and more undone in front of his fellow nations, breaking a sweat and face hot red.

"Are you sure?" England asked. "We can-."

"I said keep going!" Germany snapped. Italy chuckled, sending pleasurable vibrations through the man. "I don't want to be here all day!"

England shrugged. "Well, Japan, it's your turn."

Japan began to speak, and Germany couldn't have cared in the slightest what he said. Italy began to rapidly bob his head and Germany placed his hands in lap, digging his nails into his lap to try to hold back from moaning. With each brush of his cock against the roof of the Italian's mouth his entire body tensed. Unable to help himself, he slightly thrust his hips, and Italy obliged by taking him deeper.

 _God,_ Germany thought. _It was so wrong, but he needed more._ Each kiss planted on the tip, the bob of Italy's head, and the feel of his tongue- he craved it all, and if he had not been in the meeting, he would be gasping and panting, groaning the name of the nation that was currently pleasuring him under the table. But he was surrounded by other nations and therefore needed to keep his composure.

Before he knew it, America had begun to speak. It would be his turn next, and he had no idea what he was going to say- he was currently more focused on not letting any noises escape. Italy was not letting up and with each pleasurable sensation, Germany felt a pit of warmth growing in his stomach. He had never been one to cum quietly, and he felt his blush darken at the thought of his cum dribbling down Italy's chin.

Germany knew that America would be finishing his speech soon, it was not like he had much to add to the conversation. His breath was becoming more ragged by the second, and he thought he saw Russia give him a strange glance. Italy's slick mouth slid up and down his cock and Germany felt his legs begin to shake. He balled up his slacks in his fists as America began to close his speech.

His cock throbbed and he became overwhelmed with the urge to cum. He muttered a curse under his breath as Italy swirled his tongue around his sensitive tip before returning to his normal pace. He was so close, it took all his willpower to try to keep a somewhat stoic appearance.

"Your turn, Dude!" America cheerfully said, looking to the German man.

Everyone at the table focused their eyes on Germany. His eyes were lidded and there was a lustful expression on his face, lips parted as ragged gasps began to escape his lips.

"Mein Gott..." he groaned as his cock slammed against the back of Italy's throat.

"Germany, dude, you okay?" America asked, cocking his head.

All the nations exchanged concerned looks as Germany struggled to find the words, body overwhelmed with pleasure. Legs shaking and breathing heavy, he knew he could not take it but a few seconds more.

"I- I think England is right," he managed to choke out, much to the surprise of the rest of the countries.

"Germany, are you sure you are feeling well?" Japan asked.

"I, ah," Germany stammered, unable to hold himself back anymore. He wasn't exactly sure what sound he had made as he spilled his cum into the Italian's mouth, but he knew it had not been quiet, and the shocked expression of the other nations indicated that it had likely been quite lewd.

Italy pulled off of Germany's cock and he sunk into his chair, a panting mess.

"Dude, what the-," America started to say loudly.

"Monsieur Germany does not seem well," France butt in. "I knew both you and Italy were quite sick with fever, but you forced yourself to come to the meeting anyway, oui?"

All Germany could do was offer a nod. "I am-."

"No need for apologies," France continued. "The meeting only had a few minutes left anyway. We will head out and give you a few minutes to collect yourself, and then I will help arrange for your transportation back home if need be."

"T-thank you," Germany said, sitting up straight and face red-hot with embarrassment.

The other nations seemed a bit confused but followed France's directions, piling out of the room. Germany wiped the sweat off his brow and watched as France held the door as everyone left. He was the last one out the door, and before he was out of sight, France gave Germany a sly smile and winked.

"He figured it out," Germany muttered bitterly as the door shut behind him. "He knew."

Italy poked his head out from under the tablecloth and gave the blonde man a smile far too angelic for what he had just done.

"W-hat," Germany stammered, still in disbelief of the events that had just unfolded. "Why did you...?"

"I found a way to make meetings less boring!" Italy cheerfully said.

Germany couldn't help but chuckle as he scooted his chair out and fixed his underwear and slacks.

"Ja, you certainly did." 


End file.
